


Rex Dolor Sciurus

by Vanilla_Owns_Chocolate



Category: Conker's Bad Fur Day
Genre: Character Study, Drinking, F/M, Grief/Mourning, i tried to do a poetic-sounding title but i don't even speak latin so i had to use google translate, kingship, slight vomiting, takes place directly after bad fur day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-26
Updated: 2018-03-26
Packaged: 2019-04-08 11:35:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14104500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanilla_Owns_Chocolate/pseuds/Vanilla_Owns_Chocolate
Summary: Conker's coronation results in a reflection about his life choices.





	Rex Dolor Sciurus

Berri would have been much better at this job than him.

He realized it during his coronation. He was required to have one, since he technically wasn't king yet. He expected it to be a grand, spectacular affair, but all he had to do was hold a scepter while some weasel read off a boring prayer or something. He spent most of the ceremony tuning him out, lost in his own world, when the thought occurred to him: _Berri would have liked this._

And indeed, she would have. There was a large crowd of people both inside and outside the castle, cramming to get a look at the brand new, fearless king, the one who defeated the Tediz, who usurped the Panther King, who killed the evil Count Batula.

Berri liked crowds, to an extent. She would have been at home here. Not to say that Conker didn't like crowds; had this been any other day, he would have enjoyed being in the spotlight. But not today. Today, he only wanted one person, and she wasn't here.

* * *

The after party had alcohol, which Conker greatly appreciated.

He wanted to say that Berri's death had changed him, made him into a new, clean squirrel, but it really hadn't. If anything, he started craving a drink more and more often now.

When the doors to the ballroom (which was more like a big, empty storage room) opened, Conker's first instinct was to go straight for the alcohol. He ignored the fervent, incessant questioning of reporters and other nobles as he made a beeline for the bar.

By the time he had downed his fifth shot of scotch, he was already surrounded with anxious people of various species imploring him to answer their questions. He sighed and turned around, waving his hands and speaking up for the first time in what felt like hours.

"Alright, settle down, settle down," he said, still sober enough to think clearly, "Who wants to ask a question?"

Immediately, a slew of hands sprung up, and he instantly felt stupid for asking such a question. Of course they all wanted to ask him. He was the new king, after all.

"Okay, um..." Conker surveyed the crowd, eventually pointing at a random chipmunk who was holding a camera. "You. What do you want?"

"Oh! Uh..." The chipmunk looked taken aback at having been called out so blatantly, but he quickly snapped out of it. "How exactly did you kill the nefarious Panther King?"

Conker opened his mouth to reply, but the words quickly died in his throat. He _didn't_ kill the Panther King. It was that alien that did it, the one that the professor had created. But these people didn't know that. As far as they knew, he was the one who killed him, who freed them all.

But, as he reflected once again, he was not a changed squirrel in terms of habits. He _could_ have told the truth, but really, why would he disappoint them like that? Conker had a history of being an exceptional liar, and now he had a more important reputation to uphold, albeit begrudgingly. He was no longer Conker, the town drunkard who stayed out late and didn't have a penny to his name; he was now Conker the king, whether he liked it or not.

So, downing another quick shot, he told a story.

* * *

By the time his tale had finished, he was _smashed._

He couldn't even remember how it ended, but it must have been wonderful, because everybody was applauding and chanting his name and asking even more questions than before. Conker knew he was a good liar, but he didn't know he was that good. Then again, most of the people in this land were unbelievably stupid.

"Yeah, yeah," Conker slurred, barely able to see straight, "glad you liked it. I'm...I'm not feeling too good at the moment, so I'm just gonna-"

"Wait, don't go yet!" somebody called from within the crowd. "There's still so much to know!"

"Yeah! How did you know the Panther King was going to take that bathroom break that allowed you to plant the cyanide in his milk?"

"And how did you sneak your velociraptor past the thousands and thousands of guards?"

"And what happened to your girlfriend- what was her name? -Berri?"

Conker froze at that last question. Oh. He had completely forgotten about Berri. That was why he had started drinking in the first place, wasn't it? To get Berri off his mind? To forget that he was king for a while and go back to being plain old Conker?

Berri. Berri would have liked this. She liked parties. She hated him getting drunk, though. She would be so disappointed in him.

Berri would have made a better leader than him. She had a shrewd sense of judgement, a surprising amount of brains, technological prowess - things that he didn't have, and would never have again now that she was gone. Berri should have been here. Berri should have become his queen.

He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was vomit.

* * *

When he awoke, he had a piercing headache, and he was reminded of the hangover that resulted in him becoming king in the first place. For a moment, he expected Birdy to pop out and start talking about those "context-sensitive" pads again, but there was nothing. Just the silence of his absurdly large, panther-sized bedroom.

Man, thinking about those context-sensitive things really made him wish for one of them. It was quite ironic, he noted with a sour grimace, how they either disappeared or stopped working now that he needed them the most.

The creaking of a huge wooden door drew his attention away from his brooding. It was Rodent, no longer clad in his fancy suit of armor made out of titanium what's-it's-name. Instead, he was far more casual, but the expression on his face was one of deep concern.

"Conker?" he said, taking a cautious step inside. "Are you awake?"

"Does it look like I'm asleep?" the red squirrel responded drily, rubbing at his eyes. "Ugggh...how long was I out?"

"The whole night," Rodent responded, shutting the door quietly behind him, "you, uh...got really sick."

Conker shrugged. "Meh. I've been through worse." And he really had.

"No, no, like...you weren't well. You just kept throwing up and then dry-heaving and...and..."

"And what?" Had he done something stupid? What a way to cement his status as the new king.

"Conker, you were _crying._ Full-on sobbing. You kept saying something about Berri...is everything okay?"

...Oh. Was this going to become a recurring theme with him? Finally being able to temporarily forget about Berri, only to be reminded of her once again? He hoped not. He couldn't take much more of it, and she had only died the night before.

"I'm...fine, Rodent." He was always a good liar, but this time he was less than convincing. Rodent's frown deepened, his eyes narrowing behind his thick round glasses.

"Well...okay, but if you ever want to talk about it, just know that I'm...I'm here for you, alright?"

Conker resisted the urge to roll his eyes. That was such a Rodent thing to say, it made him want to throw up more than he already did.

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Thanks." the king replied. He was getting tired, and he had just woken up. "Now, um, what time is it?"

Rodent looked at the big grandfather clock on the other side of the room (why hadn't Conker noticed that?). "It's almost noon. You missed an important meeting, but I told the committee to wait. Wanna get dressed?"

"Yeah," said Conker, "just give me a moment, alright? And maybe bring me some milk and Alka-Seltzer when you get back. My head is killing me."

Rodent nodded and left the room, shooting one last worried glance his way.

When he was gone, Conker put his head in his hands and groaned. It was no use. No matter how much he tried to drown his sorrows, he would never be able to just shove Berri's death aside. He couldn't deny it; he missed her, plain and simple, and he was completely and utterly lost without her.

With another sigh, he stood up and prepared for his first official meeting as king.


End file.
